


Nightmares

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Series: Bittersweet [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scars, Top Greg, Top Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock wakes Greg up with his nightmares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

Greg woke quickly to a small noise. Sherlock had rolled over, back to him, sheets nearly thrown off. He whimpered a bit louder and Greg sat up against the headboard. The man was nearly curled into a ball, hands up as if protecting his head. He looked young and vulnerable in the darkness. 

Reaching over, Greg carefully place a hand on his shoulder. "Sher," he said softly. He jerked away. "Sherlock," Greg's voice was firmer. "You're not there, wherever it is. Come back to me."

There were a few more sounds. Greg kept talking and finally Sherlock's body shifted and he raised his head. "Greg?" He asked cautiously. 

"Yes."

Sherlock turned over and wrapped around him, letting go of a sob as he buried his head against his shoulder. Greg ran his hands along his marked back. "You're safe," he repeated. 

"Six months," said Sherlock, muffled. "Mycroft had to come and get me. I couldn't get away."

"It's over now." Greg kissed the top of his head. 

Sherlock shifted so he was straddling Greg's lap. He remembered this tactic too. Sex to avoid unpleasant subjects. At least this would help Sherlock sleep. He squeezed his hips. "I want you," declared Sherlock. 

_You want to forget_ , thought Greg. But he wanted to give his lover what he needed. Greg had his own nightmares sometimes. One of them involved a certain detective's crumpled body on the sidewalk. He leaned up to kiss him, brushing his hair back from his face, cradling his head. 

Sherlock kissed him back, needy. Greg reached for the lube, worrying Sherlock's lip as he coated his fingers. He was still a bit wet from earlier, and Greg's fingers easily pushed inside. Groaning, Sherlock's head went back, allowing Greg to worship his throat with nips and tongue. He was surprised when Sherlock's long fingers wrapped around his half-hard cock, bringing him quickly to full attention. 

"Sher," he groaned softly, dropping his head to lap at a nipple, free hand on his lower back, keeping him in place. He bit gently, making Sherlock's other hand squeeze his shoulder. 

"Fuck me," Sherlock breathed. 

Greg grabbed his hips and pulled him close, thrusting up. Sherlock wrapped his arms around his neck, panting heavily in his ear. Greg wrapped one strong arm around his waist, running the other up and down his back. 

"Don't," Sherlock muttered. "Damaged."

"Beautiful," answered Greg, pulling back just enough to kiss him, cupping his cheek and plumbing the depths of his mouth with his tongue until he moaned and relaxed. "Good," praised Greg as he broke the kiss and looked into Sherlock's eyes. 

The eyes closed and Sherlock buried his head against his neck again while Greg continued to thrust up into him. Sherlock wrapped a hand around his cock, moaning softly as Greg drove him against his own hand. 

For a few minutes all was quiet save the slap of skin and whispers of panted breath. Greg gave a groan and came first, leaving Sherlock to chase his own climax a moment later. Greg scooted down the bed, holding him securely against his chest as he lay back, feathering his fingers down Sherlock's back. 

Sherlock didn't complain this time, just rested his damp forehead on Greg's shoulder and sighing contentedly. Greg kissed his cheek and closed his eyes, hoping they would both sleep the rest of the night. 

**

When Greg woke again he was alone. There was the sounds of Sherlock in the kitchen down the hall. Rolling over, he found the other pillow smelled like his lover. He inhaled deeply before sitting up and stretching, sore. 

He threw on a pair of pyjama bottoms and headed down the hall. Stopping in the doorway he grinned at the sight of Sherlock standing at the stove, wearing one of Greg's button ups. It hung loose on his shoulders, accenting the slimness of his hips. Stepping forward, Greg wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his neck. 

"Your coffee is on the table."

"Thank you." Greg took it and sat, watching as Sherlock finished making them breakfast and sat across from him. "Are you having a lot of nightmares?" He asked.

Sherlock shrugged. "I was gone two years."

"And held prisoner for six months. Long enough for your brother to go after you." Greg had always had a good memory. 

"I was caught a few other times, but always managed to escape. I was bringing down Moriarty's web." He picked at his food.

Leaning over, Greg took a forkful and fed it to him. "You know, Anderson was the one person who always believed you faked it."

Sherlock blinked, mind clearly whirring. "Really?"

"Yes. And it cost him his job." Sherlock stared a moment, then got up, finding some dishes to wipe down and shove into the dishwasher. Greg stood and caught his hands. "It's okay, Sher."

"No it's not. I was trying to protect you and instead I hurt you."

Greg turned and pulled him into his arms. "You did keep us safe. I...I'm glad you're home."

Sherlock kissed him, staying in his embrace a long moment before pushing Greg away. "Your eggs will get cold."

Greg stole another kiss. "Come on and eat, then."

**Author's Note:**

> There is now [art](http://merindab.tumblr.com/post/81515019491/willietheplaidjacket-commission-piece-for) to go with this.
> 
> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
